


Help Wanted, Help Found

by Kitty_KatAllie



Category: Eyeshield 21
Genre: Brief Misunderstandings, Christmas Fluff, FLUFF AND CUTE, M/M, Offscreen Deaths, Oneshot, Other, Some Mentions of Grieving, flower shop au, minor OC deaths offscreen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9043769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitty_KatAllie/pseuds/Kitty_KatAllie
Summary: One man is searching for something- someone- who helps him feel alive again. One man is searching for help to keep his life's dream alive. Somehow, they come together and the help they need gets found. Just in time for Christmas.(This was made for es21secretsanta, but it got too massive! The first 2000~ words were posted up on tumblr. The rest was finished and posted up here. MERRY CHRISTMAS!)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ketolic (corrose)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/corrose/gifts).



> [Flower Shop Art ](http://ketolic.tumblr.com/post/151406969387/inktober-day-5-flower-shop-au-i-cheated-a-little) CHECK IT OUT! XD

It hadn’t taken him long, not really. It had been three months since…

 _Since_.

But most of the time was just dealing with everything _else_ ; the paperwork and lawyers’ meetings and condolences and fees and receipts. It wasn’t until just a few days ago that Shin had had the time to stop and _breathe_ , and remember one of the few moments of genuine sympathy given unconditionally on what was probably one of the worst days of his life.

The rain had been pouring down, turning the dirt to mud, a multitude of polished black shoes churning up grass and muck. From the outside looking in, they’d been a sea of suitably black umbrellas that glistened wetly. Thankfully there hadn’t been any display. Instead, just a large marble slab of marble, slick and shiny as a mirror, with beautiful calligraphy spelling out their names and a few too easily carved numbers. Their lives reduced to dates on a shared stone and a few simple words.

_Devoted wife, mother, and colleague_

_Loving husband, father, and friend_

The roses had been red, full blown and garishly exotic amidst the starkness of the day. He’d stood in front of the gravestone in silence, long after his parents’ friends- and his mother’s numerous employees and partners- had left him with empty condolences. The rose turned slowly between his fingers; the damp petals looked velvet soft, the deep ruby so dark it was almost black at the edges. Only Hoshino- more like a favorite uncle than butler and chauffeur- was left by then, silently holding the umbrella over Shin’s bowed head. Or at least, he’d thought that, until a hand reached out and tentatively touched Shin’s elbow. The gentle pressure pulled him out of his thoughtless reverie and he’d turned to see…

A man. His hair had been black with water and hanging over his forehead and dripping onto his tattered canvas coat. Not one of the mourners then. Shin as usual couldn’t remember anything else about his face, only snatches of a smile, small and timid, that had somehow broken through the icy wall in his chest.

“I… I didn’t think it’d be this bad. The weather, I mean. Obviously the situation is terrible- I didn’t need to say that. You know that. I… I’m so sorry,” the stranger had stammered in blundering confusion and… _pity_. For the orphan. An almost 30 year old orphan - _you’re only 29, Seijuuro, stop acting so old, son!_ \- but an orphan to be pitied nonetheless.

“You didn’t kill them,” Shin retorted harshly then, sick of the apologies that meant nothing after it was said and done.

The man had flinched, hissing in a breath, but stuttered on, “N-no, no, I d-didn’t. B-But… I’m s-sorry that you lost p-people you love.”

A hand reached out and wrapped around Shin’s, around the rose still twisting in his hand.

“Let me help,” he’d whispered gently. Shin stared in confusion, wondering how anything could help, but allowed the stranger to bring him down to their knees. The grass soaked his knees, mud sticking to black slacks that probably cost more than this man’s entire wardrobe, but Shin had watched as the man unfolded a wooden tri-legged thing a lot like an easel, stuck it a few centimeters deep into the mud, and then unrolled a scroll of cellophane several layers thick. He’d lain it over the top like a silly little tent and tied it securely to the wooden tri-pod with deft, quick hands. He wiped his wet hands on wetter jeans and he’d turned to Shin with another half-remembered smile.

“It doesn’t look like much, but I thought… I could do _something_. So I went back to my shop and brought this. Is it… all right?” he asked in sudden indecision at Shin’s lack of response, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip anxiously.

Shin shook his head and slowly set the rose down under the makeshift cover with the rest of the rain-battered blooms.

“Thank you,” he had barely managed. Shin reached for his pocket to pull out his wallet, flipping it open to count out a few bills.

“Wh-what are you doing?! No, I don’t need that!” the man had squawked in shock, grabbing Shin’s wrists to hold him still. He quickly let go and Shin immediately missed the weight of them, grounding him down into reality even as raindrops slid icily down the back of his neck and battened down his hair. “I didn’t even know you were here. It was on me. Don’t worry.”

“…you didn’t have to-”

“ _I know_. That wasn’t the point. The point is to give some some kind of beauty and peace to the people who came today, and... the people who rest here.... It’s not fair to have that ruined already.” They had gazed at each other, features blurred by rain, but even if it’d been sunny Shin would only have remembered the unruly mass of soaking wet hair the man had brushed out of his eyes. “I… I have to go back,” the stranger said reluctantly as he got to his feet. Shin stood easily with him, still churning over the words in his mind and wondering what sort of peace flowers could give him _or_ his dead parents. He thought the phrase bluntly and harshly, a reminder each day or else he'd forget and think they'd be there when he opened a door or turned a corner. “Hey, um, Shin-san?”

Shin looked over at him, eyebrows rising, a part of him wondering bitterly if the stranger had remembered it from the order placed, or just read it off the tombstone next to their feet. The man hesitated a moment longer, biting his lip again.

“Don’t be alone today. You have your friend over there, but…” he trailed off awkwardly. “Find someone who you don’t feel lonely with.”

Shin stared in speechless surprise. Then the man bowed a few times hurriedly, in Hoshino’s direction as well, with a few even more hurried apologies, before tugging the collar of his coat around his ears and jogging towards the road.

Leaving Shin standing in the rain until Hoshino hoisted the umbrella back over his head.

“Sir?”

“Let’s go. Ah… maybe call Takami or Sakuraba…”

“Very good idea, Shin-sama.”

Shin started at the _sama_. He’d been –kun and –san his whole life with Hoshino. But now with his parents gone… yet another new consequence to get accustomed to.

.

Three months later, Shin was holding the paper with an address and a name on it that Takami had given him just a few hours ago. Painted in simple, fading red was the shop’s name, _Pitt’s Petals,_ on the front window. The door was closed and a subtle, tasteful wreath of holly and poinsettias encircled the open sign. In the display window were bouquets of bright seasonal red and white flowers, evergreen branches lain around the bottoms of the vases and pots of shrubbery-like plants.  A bundle of bells jingled over Shin’s head as he stepped into the empty shop. His quick eyes took in the mostly empty shelves, the almost used-up rolls of cellophane, and the shabby, if very tidy and clean, furniture and paint.

A second after the jingling bells faded away, a body barreled through another door that swung back so quickly it knocked the man on the butt and hurtled him a few more steps forward with a grunt. He was as short and slender as Shin remembered, though bulkier with the heavy sweater he wore under a large apron with the store’s logo and name ironed onto the chest part. The sweater was a dark, warm-looking green, with frayed cuffs and white and red design across the chest that Shin couldn’t quite make out thanks to the apron. The collar of the shirt underneath was folded neatly over the neckline of the sweater, and the man wore baggy canvas pants covered in giant pockets. One pocket had a pair of… pliers of some sort sticking out the top, and when the man turned to grasp the still swinging door, Shin caught sight of filthy gloves hanging out the back pocket.

“Oh hello! I don’t normally get customers after lunch time, or much at all during winter really! Welcome to Pitt’s Petals!” the man- shopkeeper? employee?- exclaimed with a bright, breath-taking grin.

Breath-taking for Shin, who hadn’t seen a guilelessly happy smile like that in months. Almost half a year, really.

And he knew, even though the man’s hair was more a fluffy sort of brown and standing every which-a-way, and the canvas jacket was missing, that this man had to be the stranger from the cemetery three months ago. Whether or not he really remembered the smile- or how big and bright those brown eyes were, and how kind and carelessly handsome his delicate features were- how many smiles could affect him like _this_? _This_ feeling was familiar in the way his face was not.

The smile drooped slightly, head tilting like a cat’s in confusion.

“Are you lost?”

“No,” Shin retorted shortly, holding up the address in his hand for proof. For who knows what reason. _Just_ _talk_ , Shin internally reprimanded, but the man was continuing.

“Oh, did you see the ad? Is that why you’re here!?” the man exclaimed, eyes shining and hopeful as they darted towards the large sign on the register counter.

A large _help wanted_ sign sat next to the ancient, beat-up looking machine.

“Uh…”

“I better tell you upfront that the pay will be low. Very low. I’ve had four other applicants decide to… to _pursue other options_ ,” he said carefully, as if quoting unfamiliar words, “and I don’t want to waste anyone’s time anymore.” The hope in his eyes was already dimming at the confession, shoulders slumping heavily.

“N-no, that doesn’t matter-”

“Really? Because it’s _really_ low… You won’t quite be making part-time, not with it being winter and-”

“It _really_ doesn’t matter,” Shin asserted firmly.

Which rewarded him with that eager, happy smile returning. Relief unknotted the tension in Shin’s chest at the sight.

“That’s great! Wonderful! C’mon back to the office, well, it’s my living room, but it’s so much more cozy than an office. I just made some tea, too! Let’s get on with the interview,” the man beckoned excitedly.

“Name.”

“What?”

“Your name. I don’t know your name,” Shin managed to force out. His head was feeling fuzzy as his eyes watered and an itch tickled at his sinuses.

“Wow, I’m sorry! That was rude of me. I’m Kobayakawa, Sena." A quick, flustered bow that hit Shin with deja vu punctuated the greeting. "This is my shop. Not much of one, but it’s mine,” Sena admitted with a sheepish duck of his head while rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I-It’s nice,” Shin choked out past the thickness in his throat.

“Hurry up, and let’s get some tea in you. You look pretty frozen. Or sick. Are you sick?!”

Shin shook his head and followed the dubious yet concerned looking Kobayakawa into the back area. “Shin.”

“Shin?”

“Shin, Seijuuro.”

“Your name?” At Shin’s nod, Sena grinned again. “That sounds really familiar. Maybe I’ve met a distant relative of yours or something,” he laughed.

Shin opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by a loud, body jarring sneeze.

.

Shin got through an interview, accepted a job that he didn’t need, and was bundled out the door with serious advice to rest well and buy medicine.

“If you don’t feel well tomorrow, just call the shop and lemme know. I can wait a day or so for some extra help. I don’t want you to fall off your bike.”

Shin stared. “My bike.”

Sena blinked in response. “For the deliveries, yes. You… you did notice on the contract you have to bring your own?”

Shin vaguely recalled a long rambling story about a monkey who quit the delivery position several months before and had to take the bike with him. ...wait…monkey? Shin sneezed again and Sena tsked anxiously, already handing over a hanky pack. The taller man took the last disposable handkerchief left in the pack with a grunted out thanks.

“Take care of yourself, Shin-san. Really. You look pretty bad. Maybe you should just go ahead and wait one more day-” Sena started to suggest with a frown.

Shin held up a hand while blowing his nose with the other. Sniffling, he hid the filthy tissue in his fist and shook his head. “I’ll be here. It’s nothing.”

It sounded a little strange outside his own head. More like “Ah’ll be hurr. Id’z nuddin’.” Sena frowned harder.

With a wave, Shin took off down the sidewalk with a mission in mind. He’d gotten through an interview, accepted a job that he didn’t need, and he had a large stockpile of antihistamines to buy.

And a bike.

.

A week later, Shin brought in the large shipment of boxes from the delivery guy. He set it all down with a grateful sigh, wiping at his forehead with the apron he’d slung over his shoulder. Sena looked up from where he’d been cooing at flowers (he did that a lot; it should’ve been odd, and it was, but it was mostly adorable. Shin might’ve been caught staring a few times).

“I don’t remember ordering anything. What is that?” Sena asked in surprise, setting down the spray bottle in his hand and walking over as Shin pulled a box cutter out of his pocket.

The blade slipped through tape and cardboard easily and Shin tugged it open. To reveal the rolls of cellophane wrapped in protective plastic bags and of multiple colors. Sena gasped and yanked the top box away, gasping in shock and confusion as each box revealed different kinds of bouquet wrappers, with patterns and colors and matching spools of ribbons that he’d never been able to afford even after the rush of Valentine’s Day. Shin handed over the receipt, all paid for and in the shop’s name, when Sena only knelt on the ground gaping incredulously at the windfall.

“W-What, but… I didn’t?” Sena babbled, eyes darting over the receipt. “I need to call them!” Sena exclaimed, jumping to his feet and almost tripping right over the boxes in his haste.

With a grunt, Shin caught Sena around the waist, balancing most of Sena’s weight on just one arm. “Careful.”

“O-oh, y-yeah, thanks. I just… There must’ve been a mistake, an order mix-up, I just…” Sena babbled absently, eyes on the open boxes and his hands gripping Shin’s sides. He didn’t seem to notice how closely he was pressed to Shin’s torso with so much balance relying on Shin’s strength holding him up.

“Should I… leave it in the boxes?” Shin asked slowly. Knowing there was actually no mistake at all, but Sena’s hunt for answers would only lead to a dead-end.

He’d paid for the anonymity after all.

“Oh, uh, yes. That’s probably best. I’m sure they’ll come get it by tomorrow,” Sena agreed, eyes sad and wistful as his gaze moved from the new boxes of supplies towards the last roll of cellophane- plain and colorless- just a few rolls from empty. He pasted on a smile that had Shin swallowing down a sigh. “I still have some leftover pink cellophane. I was hoping to wait till Valentine’s, but I’m sure we’ll get a good Christmas order in time!”

Shin watched the optimistic, good-hearted man carefully pull away, ears and cheeks red, and climb over boxes towards the shop phone. Off to return what others might take as good fortune. Sena caught his eye when he propped the phone between ear and shoulder, tugging out shears from his apron pocket and holding them out towards Shin. This time, the sigh he barely hid was pained rather than fond.

Dealing with the flowers was not his favorite. Taking too many antihistamines made him groggy, no matter what kind he took. But he nodded silently in Sena’s direction. He did procrastinate a little by moving the boxes to a less conspicuous and inconvenient location (the storage room, despite Sena’s dubious little pout, unable to stop Shin while on the phone). The rest of Sena’s lengthy, talking in circles phone conversation, Shin spent discreetly sneezing and pruning.

.

“Not like that, Shin-san. If you put too many big blooms all together like that, it detracts from the littler flowers,” Sena protested gently, taking out at least half of said bigger flowers. Shin frowned.

“It looks empty. Isn't bigger better?”

Sena snorted and muttered, “that’s what he said.”

“Yes. That’s what I said?” Shin repeated with eyebrows rising. Sena blushed tomato red, slapping a hand over his mouth, horrified.

“That was so unprofessional!”

“What was?”

“N-Nothing!” Sena exclaimed, waving his hands in the air, flowers flopping. “Oh no! The flowers!”

Shin scowled at Sena as the younger man placed the flowers on the counter, babbling apologies at them. “I still don’t understand how to arrange this.”

“You’re getting better! And your eye for color is very good. Monta-kun was totally colorblind, I swear,” Sena reassured him with a grin. “But bigger is _not_ always better. It depends on the order and request and this is not that kind of request. Plus… we don’t really have the flowers to spare. Christmas is in a few days and I’d like a good selection.”

Shin frowned at the bouquet and wiggled the tiny sprigs of purple flowers around to the sound of Sena’s voice and soft approving hum sound every time he liked something Shin did. “Why?”

“Hm?” Sena’s eyes seemed to be glued to Shin’s hands, and he actually jumped in place a second later as his face burned crimson. The strangest things seemed to startle Sena. Like the cat this place was named after. “Oh, you mean, why do I want a good selection for Christmas?”

Shin nodded and stared steadily at him, patiently waiting. Sena hedged a moment, giving Shin back just one of the flowers he’d taken.

“Sometimes people decide at the last minute to buy Christmas flowers to cheer up a party, or if they forgot to give their loved one a gift. It’s not a big holiday for a lot of people, but people like any excuse for presents. Why not a quick, pretty bouquet? Or something to cheer up a dinner party? When I first opened four years ago, I got a surprise sell out on Christmas Day. It helped that my friends had advertised so well for me,” Sena reminisced with a private, nostalgic, little smile. 

“What changed?”

Sena’s hands stilled and his head drooped. “It… It was my fault. I’m not a very good businessman. That’s all. My friends couldn’t be expected to hold my hand forever,” the shopkeeper murmured with a too-nonchalant shrug.

Shin frowned. “That doesn’t sound like you had good friends-”

“ _Don’t say that_.” Shin froze at the tone of Sena’s voice. The rough, hoarse, _angry_ sound of it. Those normally so bright eyes were flashing with outrage and meeting Shin’s head on. “My friends are _the best_ you could ever ask for. They all have their own lives and their own troubles and I refused to let my failure bring them down. Flower shops… keeping them up and running? It’s almost impossible! Not when you could go to any supermarket and get them cheaper, faster, with stronger smells because of the perfume they spray on them,” Sena stated, rapid fire and gaining volume. “This was _my_ dream, not theirs. So if it fails, it’s on _me_.”

Harsh, too fast breathing panted through the air between them for long, quiet moments. When Sena finally caught his breath, it shuddered out of him in one long exhale and his whole body slumped as the flush left his face and the fire his eyes. Sena glanced away, shamefaced and _sad_. Shin hated it when that look crept into Sena’s eyes. Even with Shin there and the surprise shipment of supplies that the factory had (obviously) refused to take back, that look darkened Sena’s eyes more and more often.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Shin replied, almost interrupting the apology. Sena startled and blinked up at him. “Just…” a long ago piece of advice returned, making him smirk, “find someone you won’t feel lonely with. Someone to share the dream with you.”

He picked up his bouquet and walked towards the display case, leaving Sena floored and gaping behind him. Shin wondered, just how much would it take for Sena to remember him? And why couldn’t he just _tell_ Sena? Why the subterfuge? Was it just to return a bit of peace to the man who’d helped him almost four months ago? Or was Shin just avoiding seeing that look of _pity_ fill Sena’s eyes?

Shin glanced at the mirror over the display case to peek at Sena. The shopkeeper was still standing behind the table, turning slightly to the side, his profile revealing the pinkened cheeks and wide eyes and the hand covering his mouth. The other hand was braced against the counter, knuckles white from holding all his weight up. His eyes glanced towards Shin, then he meeped and jumped up before darting away with the leftover blooms, face hidden under the mop of brown hair.

Shin may have smiled a little to himself. Because in that swift glance? The sadness had already disappeared.

.

Sena put the finishing touches on a large bouquet with a slight frown on his face. The frown darkened when he picked up the card he’d written to the order’s specifications. With a small sigh, he shrugged, slipped the card into its tiny envelope, then stuck it on its small plastic trident in the midst of gaudily bright and clashing flowers. (Shin had taken to studiously researching flower arrangements and color theory since Sena had started teaching him. This bouquet was not subtle in its intentions at all.)

“Okay, it’s ready. You can take it now,” Sena announced with a forced smile in Shin’s direction.

Shin set aside the broom and apron to take up his coats and specially made baseball cap with Pitt’s logo on it (Sena snickered every time Shin put on the paw-printed cap). He might've been moving a little faster than appropriate at teh idea of going outside. Even with the physical labor involved (something he also appreciated, it'd been too long since the gym), the fresh, brisk air clearing away the groggy heaviness the medicine and pollen created in his sinuses whenever he went on a delivery was the best part of the day. Well, almost. The stolen moments of closeness with Sena were definitely worth the sniffles. He zipped and buttoned up his layers, and stilled in surprise when his scarf wrapped around his neck. Sena smiled, much more genuinely now, as he tugged Shin down closer and neatly tucked and tugged at the scarf before stepping back.

“If you don’t like the orders, why do you take them?” Shin asked when Sena handed over his gloves. Sena's nose scrunched up a moment.

“It’s not my place to judge others. I just don’t like the idea that people use flowers to apologize for something they’re not really sorry for, that’s all. I’m too sensitive,” Sena replied with a sheepish chuckle. It died away quickly, Sena’s mouth falling open slightly under wide eyes as he watched Shin tug on his black gloves.

 _Interesting_ , Shin noted, rather smugly.

Sena shook his head briskly. “Take care out there, okay? The roads are getting really icy and it’s cold! I wish I had a delivery van or truck for you to use,” the florist worried and fidgeted, eyes on the snow gently falling outside. He squeaked and jumped when Shin’s hands fell on his shoulders, cheeks flooding with warmth seconds later.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll bring back lunch, too,” he added. Sena wrenched open his mouth to protest (Shin might have been buying almost every lunch since he’d been hired, sometimes even subtly ordering in dinner while Sena wasn’t noticing. One time, he’d successfully cooked dinner during Sena’s inventory and bookkeeping night), but Shin squeezed Sena’s shoulders gently. The protests died in a senseless stream of stutters as Shin strode to the door. “The noodle shop?”

“Uh-ah- yes?” Sena stammered.

Shin walked into the cold, hiding a smirk under his scarf and holding a giant, garish bouquet of ‘sorry I was unfaithful, let me throw flowers and money at the problem’. It (un)surprisingly wasn’t a rare bouquet to deliver. He had to restrain himself from just tossing the mess into the box on the back of the bike.

.

Shin stepped up to the elevator forty minutes later, brushing at the petals on his shoulders and head. The woman upstairs had not been impressed or forgiving. Why she threw them at _him_ , Shin would never understand. It was better than crying. Anything was better than the crying.

He was already looking forward to spicy beef noodles and Sena when he overheard two women speaking. Well, one was yelling and pacing in an office while the other woman sat and quietly tried to soothe her.

“How hard is it to keep their word? It’s flowers, damn it! Buy flowers, make ‘em pretty, put ‘em all over a reception hall. I’m not asking them to get to know my life story and agree with all my personal choices, Rinrin!”

“Yes, dear, I know. Please, just a little quieter…? How about some tea?”

“We’re definitely gonna sue, Rinrin! How dare they take our money and back out-”

Shin frowned as he waited for the elevator to rise. It sounded like- but he shouldn’t assume. It wasn’t his business.

“Where in the world are we going to find a flower shop that can take on our order this soon?” the young, black-haired woman exclaimed in dismay, finally flopping to the couch next to the woman.

“We’ll find someone, Suzu,” ‘Rinrin’ reassured her, running her fingers through the shorter woman’s hair. “Papa said he’d help us, too.”

“I hate taking your family’s hand-outs.”

“You need flowers?” Shin heard himself grunt. He hadn’t even noticed his feet taking him to the women. They both jumped up, the blonde one with a little shriek and her hands covering her mouth, and stared up at him.

“Whoa, how did you manage to make that sound intimidating?” ‘Suzu’ muttered in some awe.

“What a cute hat!” Rinrin exclaimed with a smile. “Is that your flower shop?”

“No, it’s Sena’s. Sena Kobayakawa,” Shin answered, searching through his pockets for the cards he’d ordered and gotten printed. (Sena had been flabbergasted for hours, constantly turning back to the box of cards and gaping speechlessly when they’d arrived two days ago. Shin definitely did not do it for that reaction. It was a sound _business_ _investment_.)

“ _Ookaaay_ , what kinda name is Pitt?” Suzu asked dubiously, mouth twitching at the honestly adorable logo and the extra pawprints that looked like a tiny cat had walked across the surface and a kitty tail for an _l_ in Petal’s.

“It’s his family cat’s name. Do you need flowers?” he demanded awkwardly. The women glanced at each other.

“We need a _lot_ of flowers. We’re having a wedding of over 500 people,” Suzu replied wryly. Karin blushed.

“Papa has a lot of business associates.”

“Karin, they’re mostly your friends and _fans_ ,” Suzu corrected with an adoring smile at her. Karin blushed even brighter. There was something about her humility and kind eyes that reminded Shin very strongly of Sena. “I have a lot of guests myself, too. I don’t mind, Rinrin.”

“We can do it.” _We have to do it_. If anything could perk up Sena’s business, a huge wedding for wealthy clientele would. They would probably even recommend Pitt’s Petals to their friends and peers if they could pull it off. “When is it?”

“Christmas Day,” Karin admitted with a sheepish wince. Shin scowled darkly. That was exactly seven days from _right then_.

“It’s not _our fault_. It’s that stupid, stuck-up asshole we hired.”

“Suzuna, please! He seemed so kind-”

“Until he found out we were bride and bride instead of bride and maid of honor,” Suzuna interrupted shortly. She glared up at Shin, eyes flashing, “you gotta a problem with it too, grumpy?”

Shin’s eyebrow arched up. “He was an idiot not to notice immediately.”

Karin giggled while Suzuna grinned widely. “That’s better. All right. We’ll pay the usual price and a half.”

“We’ll want half the total upfront to pay for expediting fees and van rental,” Shin countered. Suzuna’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“We can do that,” she agreed. She turned to Karin, who nodded in confirmation. “We can come by and meet the owner after our meeting. We’ll have the money ready, too, and all the plans and arrangements we want. Tell your boss to clear his afternoon.”

Shin snorted. “He’s not my boss. We’ll be ready for you.”

With that he turned and left. He didn’t even bother with the elevator. The stairs would be faster and he had to get back as soon as possible.

Less than four hours later, Sena walked out of the living area, Karin on one side and Suzuna on the other. Both women looked excited and pleased. Sena looked shell-shocked, holding a check in his hand, a bulging folder under one arm, and a lipstick smudge on each cheek in different shades of pink.

“We expect a call every day with updates, SenSen,” Suzuna told him firmly with a teasing smile.

“Yes, and if you go over the projected expenses let us know immediately! We’ll pay back every yen,” Karin promised. Sena nodded mutely.

“Talk to you tomorrow then! Thanks, you’re both life savers!” Suzuna sang happily. She and Karin linked arms as they left, both waving and smiling until they rounded out of sight.  

Sena stared after them, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “What… where…”

“Sena?” Shin questioned in concern. Sena shook his head.

“I’ve never seen this much money before and this is only _half_ of it. Shin-san, I’ve only ever made _this_ much,” he waved the check in the air for emphasis, “after the entirety of February was added up! I’ve never even advertised for something of this scale.”

“Are you… upset?” Shin slowly asked, his shoulders tightening. Sena blinked, then threw himself at Shin. The arms around his waist were shaking and bruising at once, and Sena’s face was buried against his chest.

“No, of course not. I don’t know what I did to deserve- deserve any of this. Ever since you came here, I’ve been so fortunate. Thank you, Shin-san, _thank you_ ,” Sena enthused, voice muffled and shoulders shaking. Gradually, carefully, Shin wrapped his arms around Sena’s slighter frame, pretending like he couldn’t hear the stifled sounds against his apron front.

“It’s been my pleasure to help,” Shin murmured.

.

Sena was humming the wedding march and darting around the store when Shin entered. It wasn’t even light out, not yet, the streetlamps just barely turning off, but Sena was wide awake and smiling ear to ear. Shin stood in the door way, a carrier of giant coffee cups and a baggie of breakfast sandwiches in hand, and watched as Sena brought morning to life in his tiny, still rather shabby flower shop just from sheer joyful excitement. His brown eyes caught and held on Shin and somehow that mega-watt smile brightened even further. Shin grunted and blinked, feeling almost blind. The florist actually let himself stand still long enough to greet his ‘employee’.

“Good morning, Shin-san! Is that coffee? It smells great!”

Shin juggled with the bag and carrier until he managed to work one cup out of the cardboard cupholder. He thrust it in Sena’s direction, who had the gall to toss his head back and laugh.

“It’s not much earlier than we normally open,” Sena pointed out. “When I go to the flower marts, this is usually the time I’m going out there.”

Shin scowled and gestured with the coffee insistently until Sena came and got it. “I _don’t_ get here this early, and I don’t go to the market with you.”

Sena tilted his head, giving Shin the point, then took his first sip of vanilla latte, extra vanilla. His eyes fluttered shut as he hummed appreciatively.

No. No, that was not a hum. That was a moan. It was too damn early to deal with this. Shin growled into his own coffee, but couldn’t quite take his eyes off the ball of kinetic energy in front of him. Sena looked back up at him with a strangely hopeful expression after swallowing.

“You could… come with me next time? If you want.”

Wake up at the crack ass of dawn, take a car across Tokyo, just to walk or ride a bike or however Sena travelled to who knows where, to a _flower market_ filled with every kind of pollen-dowsed weed and funny bit of grass, sounded pretty much like Shin's personal hell. Add in the ugly Christmas sweater Sena would most definitely make him wear and carols he’ll have to listen to while leaking out of every hole on his face and Shin figured he’d rather bathe in a tub of scissors.

But…

Sena was smiling hopefully, with his ridiculously shining eyes and pink cheeks, and Shin could feel himself nodding. Sena’s wide-mouthed incredulous grin, looking as though he never thought Shin would agree, was worth it.

Probably. Hypothetically. Damn it.

“Eat.” Shin ordered, shoving the baggie at Sena’s chest hard enough that the younger man _oofed_ in surprise and spilled coffee over his hand.

Shin sighed heavily through his nose as Sena licked at his hand and blew on it in a fluster. The knock on the door was so welcome that Shin barely even registered how unusual it was before flinging it open desperately. He stared at the large group of sleepy, curiously blinking people he’d never seen before and immediately attempted to close the door again.

“Hey! No way in _fuck_ did I wake up at the ass crack of dawn for this shit!” one man snarled, kicking the door all the way open. Shin stumbled back before the horde stampeded him as they forced their way inside and began shedding layers.

“Who are you?” another _huge_ man asked politely. “I’m Kurita, Ryokan.”

“Ah.”

Sena hurried over to place a hand on Shin’s arm and patted encouragingly. “Why don’t you go get the corsages out of the fridges? Mamori-nee,” he gestured towards a beautifully smiling auburn-haired woman. “Yuki-san, er, Yukimitsu-san,” he pointed at a yawning, baggy-eyed mostly bald man with thick spectacles and a… stethoscope around his neck? “and Rikku-kun,” this time, it was a man just barely taller than Sena with ivory hair, a dark-complexion, and green-eyes who smirked in wry amusement “can help. They’re the most careful,” Sena whispered under his breath.

“You realize we all heard that, fucking shrimp,” the first man pointed out, unimpressed and thin brows arching. “Where the hell is my fucking coffee?”

Sena sighed. “There's a fresh pot in the kitchen. Is Musashi here?”

“He’s out with the van, sweetie,” Mamori answered quickly, swooping down to kiss his cheek. Sena hugged her briefly in return. “It’s nice to meet you, Shin-san. Sena’s told me so much about you the past month.”

“It think you’re the _only_ thing he’s talked about for a month,” Rikku- maybe Riku, it sounded like a nickname- added with an eye roll.

Shin grunted disinterestedly and led the way towards the fridges, chugging down coffee like he’d seen businessmen down alcohol. Mamori just smiled guilelessly at him while Riku snorted softly.

 Kurita ended up being delegated to back-up work once he proved a bit of a clumsy, over-eager disaster. Hiruma, the angry kicking one, had quite predictably kicked him out of the shop area when he’d almost fell face first onto an entirely full box of corsages. Sena had almost burst into anxious tears while assuring Kurita everything was fine and Shin had glared daggers at his back until _Kurita_ was bawling. Hence the kicking. Back-up work somehow became making a giant second breakfast for everyone and keeping tea and coffee fresh and hot. (Kurita had cheerfully explained he owned a successful chain of restaurant/bakeries across Kanto region, and his breakfast did not discredit him.)

Hiruma acted as though everything bothered him and he intended to do nothing but sit on his bony ass and yell or kick at people, but actually managed to situate everyone in the most efficient tasks and places. He kept up a constant barrage of support that sounded like abuse and yet… not? Shin eyed the pointy-eared, pointy-teethed, dyed-blonde man warily most of the morning. He seemed to have some sort of relationship with Mamori and the taciturn man everyone called Musashi. They were also the only ones who didn’t flinch (and the mostly eye rolling, sarcastically smirking Riku) every time he kicked or snapped. Yukimitsu was actually a doctor and, after barely catching four hours of sleep, grabbed his overnight bag and stethoscope when he’d stumbled out the door that morning. A reflex, he’d explained with a bashful laugh, from all the call-ins he’d experienced.

Shin leaned over to Sena with a confused frown on his face. “Isn’t someone missing?”

That may have been his first coherent strung together sentence of the morning. It had only taken… almost an hour…

The florist glanced up at him, just as perplexed. “What do you mean?”

Shin blinked and tallied up each person and nodded. “Monta. None of them are Monta.”

That had everyone staring over at him before Sena slapped his fist to his palm. “Oh! I never really explained! I mentioned him, the one who worked here before, right?”

“He helped open this.”

“Right, right,” Sena agreed nodding at he gently laid the last corsage in the last box. Musashi knelt down to pick it up and take it to the delivery van Sena was “renting” from his construction company. It apparently had already been kitted up with the proper shelving and fridge units. No extra cost. “He left a few months ago to _Kansai_. He’s… well... married now. Just before he left, actually. He’s a social worker over there. They have about three kids right now, so they’ll be meeting us at the reception hall to help set up straight from their hotel. I didn’t want to bother them to come this early when they have three kids with them.”

Shin scowled, mystified. “I thought it was only half a year ago?”

Sena tilted his head to the side. “Yes? What does that matter?”

Three kids in less than six months? The math did not compute. It sounded like he and his spouse weren’t legally married though, maybe they’d just decided not to wait until marriage for children. Shin shrugged it off and got to his feet, hand under Sena’s elbow to help him up as well. Something sharp and assessing darted through everyone else’s eyes at the gesture (except for Kurita who just looked obliviously joyful). Shin felt a shudder run down his spine, but when he looked up to meet anyone’s gaze, they were already hurrying to the door and discussing traffic and best routes to the venue.

As they neared the van-

“Musashi-san, why is there a giant cat with bloody claws on the side of your van?”

“Hiruma.”

“Kekekekeke, it’s better this way. Mamori tried first. I would’ve caused bad fucking luck for the newlyweds.”

“Hey!”-

Riku smothered a laugh and looked up from his repeatedly chiming phone. “Yama says the bridal party is on the way, and the circus act Taka lets live in his house are leaving the hotel with him now.” Shin frowned in more confusion. Did someone mention knowing the brides and not tell him?

Yukimitsu pushed his glasses up his nose with a small smile. “He challenged you to a race, didn’t he?”

Riku rolled his eyes with a longsuffering sigh and shoved the phone away, ignoring the continuing chimes. “More like he challenged whoever is driving.”

Knuckles cracked. “I got this,” Hiruma said with an evil looking smirk uncurling over his face. Almost every face went white. In fact, only Shin’s and Musashi’s didn’t.

“R-Remember the f-flowers, Hiruma-s-s-san,” Sena hesitantly advised. Hiruma got into the front seat with a casually obscene gesture over his shoulder. Sena sighed in resignation and slumped forward.

Shin reached out to grip Sena’s shoulder. “We’ll keep them safe,” he vowed quietly when Sena jerked his head up and met his gaze. The florist’s face stilled for a long moment, until that sunny, happy smile unfurled so like the flowers Sena coaxed into bloom.

“Thank you.”

.

Shin brought in the last box from the van. Across the reception hall, Sena was chatting with Suzuna- who was dressed in only a robe and make-up that made her look more adult and glowing at once… or maybe it was just the joy on her lit up face. They had a whole binder open between them, pointing in different direction while Sena nodded over and over again, looking flustered but excited.

A loud crash of noise had Shin turning, box still in his arms. A short man with messy dark hair and heavy brows for such an animatedly cheerful face was racing into the room. One kid hung off the back of his neck like a cape, hands clasped around his throat, and another smaller kid was tucked up under his arm like a bag. Much more sedately, a much taller man with long pale hair tied into a sensible, high ponytail, rimless glasses perched on his nose, and a tiny girl sucking her thumb and clutching his hand walked in behind them.

“OI! You must be Shin! I’m Monta! Well, Taro, Raimon-”

“Honjou,” the quiet man corrected as he reached the short man’s side. The man named 'Monta' blushed a little and rubbed at his nose with a wide, sheepish grin.

“Right, sorry, babe. It’s Honjou, Raimon now. But everyone calls me Monta, ever since high school. Is Sena crying yet?” Monta joked, breaking off his snickers with a grunt when the kid on his back kicked his kidneys.

“MonMon, you said we’d get to help Uncle Sena with flowers!” the boy exclaimed in exasperation.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going. See ya, Shin!” Monta took off with zooming and whooshing noises and making the boys hanging on him laugh even as they screeched greetings at Sena.

“Shin.”

Shin startled, still feeling distinctly run over by the whirlwind called _MonMon_ , and looked over at the patiently waiting man. He was taller than Shin- which honestly wasn’t _difficult_ per se, but Sena and most of his friends had skewed his perception of his own height- and there was something… _familiar_ about his gaze.

Then, the name sank in.

“ _Honjou_ ,” Shin blurted, eyes widening. Honjou tilted his head forward in acquiescence.

“How have you been? My father went to the service, but he said you seemed… withdrawn. Understandably.”

His throat was dry and tight, his eyes darting towards Sena. He’d somehow gotten the boys unglued from Monta, and the four of them were, with exaggerated care, taking the beautiful done up corsages out of the box. As Shin watching, Sena showed the two boys- maybe eight or ten in age- how to hang them from the chairs by their looped ribbons.

“I wasn’t sure you were the same Shin, Seijuuro. So no, I have not informed my husband of your identity. Now that I know it’s you, I must ask just _why_ you’re lying to my husband’s best friend,” Honjou- Taka if Shin remembered correctly- inquired, his voice like cold steel with piercing eyes to match.

Shin couldn’t help but scowl. The implications that Shin had less than good intentions towards the bright spark that was Sena was _ridiculous_. “It’s not like that.”

“You’ll have to explain then, or I _will_ tell Sena-san myself,” Taka warned dangerously.

Shin slowly set down the box on a nearby chair and straightened to meet Taka’s gaze as well as he could. His arms crossed over his chest and their eyes met glare for glare.

“I’m helping him. I meant to tell him the truth, but I didn’t want him to think it was pity,” Shin stated firmly. Taka’s assessing gaze roved over his face, and after a long, heavy moment, Taka’s features relaxed into something almost like a smile.

“The mysteriously appearing supplies and cards. The lunches. The dinner.”

Shin shuffled awkwardly and looked away. His ears felt a little hot, but seeing Sena laughing with Monta and the kids, thanking every one of his friends when they came by to pat his back and congratulate him on his beautiful presentation and job well done… Tension seeped out of his shoulders, and he nodded at Taka just once.

“You should tell him the truth. Immediately. If Raimon figures it out before Sena-san, he’ll… he’s not good at holding back,” he smiled ruefully and fondly.

Shin nodded. “I’ll tell him today. After the wedding.”

“That’s for the best. I’ll distract Raimon. He’ll try to keep Sena-san to himself all day otherwise,” Taka suggested.

Shin grunted gratefully (it was definitely a grateful sound. Taka even nodded back in understanding.) Mamori shouting Shin’s name, demanding the box of tiny centerpieces, had him finally leaving the awkward conversation behind. But not before he heard the little girl whisper,

“Taka-Papa, is that Uncle Sena’s husband?”

Shin never had this much trouble trying not to smile before.

.

Sena spent most of the drive after the reception later that night darting confused glances Shin’s way. Most of their friends had gone on home for their own Christmas celebrations, but a few had stayed behind. Apparently the obnoxious man was the mysterious 'Yama' and he _had_ actually known one bride in high school. So had Taka, who'd used it as an excuse to keep Monta there with him. The looks from Sena luckily weren’t _suspicious_ glances, at least not yet. Hopefully, there was enough trust between them, but it had barely been 4 weeks since Shin had walked into the flower shop. He didn’t want to be too… optimistic.

His hands squeezed the steering wheel. Leather creaked beneath his moist palms.

When they finally turned into the residential district he lived in, with the third story townhouses leading into large walled private compounds to, at last too soon, the atypical open-landscaped homes with wide, sprawling lawns and long, winding driveways, Sena let out a quickly bitten off puzzled noise. Shin _felt_ the weight of Sena’s gaze on him then. He idled up to the gate of his family home (bought in his grandfather’s time, so it wasn’t _that_ old), and rolled down his window. The freezing air that blasted into the heated interior of the van as Shin reached out to buzz the intercom seemed to knock the pent-up curiosity out of Sena. There was a loud intake of breath before-

“Shin-san, what are we doing here? Is this… Suzuna-san and Karin-san’s home?” Sena ventured hesitantly. Which… wasn’t a _bad_ guess, Shin supposed.

“No.”

The intercom crackled to life and interrupted Sena’s further prodding.

“ _Moshi moshi, Shin residence_ -”

“what.” Sena breathed in a tiny voice.

“ _-may you state your business, please?_ ”

“It’s me, Hoshino.”

 _“_ What?” Sena yelped.

“ _Oh, Shin-sama, welcome home-”_

“Oh my _god._ ”

“- _I can see you now on the cameras. Please excuse my inattention.”_ The gate was already swinging slowly open on silent, well-oiled hinges as Hoshino spoke. All the while, Sena was repeating a steady mantra of _oh my god_ under his breath. Shin resolutely ignored it even as his knuckles whitened.

“Thank you, Hoshino. If you could prepare some coffee and leave it on the heat, that’ll be all I need tonight.”

Fingers dragged through Sena’s thick mess of hair as he curled over himself. “This _can't_ be happening,” Sena wheezed, fingers catching and holding amongst the wild strands.

“ _Very well, sir. Have a good night.”_

“You, too.”

The intercom crackled once more and died. Shin steeled his jaw, shifted the van back into gear, and rolled through the gate. The long drive up the driveway wasn’t the bombardment of questions he’d been expecting, though. Rather than that, Sena’s disbelieving mutters descended into a silence heavier and vastly more uncomfortable the one that proceeded their arrival. Shin cut the engine just in front of the entrance steps. A raspy laugh cracked out of Sena and sharply ended in seconds.

“This… this is why the money didn’t matter,” Sena said dully.

Shin nodded slowly, eyes glued to the steering wheel. “Yes.”

Sena dropped his face to his hands with a muffled, shuddering sound. Shin waited patiently as chilly fingers of winter air worked their way into the van. A hard shiver down Sena’s spine had words finally bursting out of him.

“You’re the man from the cemetery.”

Shin closed his eyes, holding back the surge of grief and pain at the remembrance. “Yes.”

“I thought it was you, but I told myself it _couldn't_ be and- this whole time- you… you must’ve thought I was a _moron_! Why didn’t you say anything? Why- why _any of this_?” Sena demanded, voice catching and thick in his throat.

When Shin turned to look, he was horrified to see tears actually gathering in Sena’s eyes. His expression was a complicated mess of emotions Shin couldn’t begin to parse out, only recognizing something like anger and _hurt_ there. His own face went rigid in shock, indecision and alarm tying his tongue in knots and weighed down his hands. He had no idea how to comfort Sena in this situation, no idea what to say, when faced with… with _that face_ looking at him. With a loud, ‘tch’ Sena looked away and rubbed at his eyes with his wrist.

“You should take me home. Surely you can afford a taxi back here.” For the first time, Sena’s voice sounded _acidic_.

“Sena, no-”

“Shin-san, I appreciated everything you’ve done, but I’d like to go now. You also don’t need to come back. I’ll send your paycheck-”

“ _I don’t want a paycheck_.”

Sena flinched, breath sharp on an inhale and face pale. “Your paycheck will be sent after the first of the year.”

“I never asked for that job.” Everything was coming out _wrong._

Sena's fists curled on his lap, knuckles white around his gloves. “Just the same, you worked there. And I won’t take your _pity_. You obviously don’t feel like telling me why-”

“Because you told me to!” Shin exploded, control on the situation slipping and desperation breaking him down.

Sena gaped at him, jaw dropping. “What?” he finally croaked out.

“You told me… you told me to find someone I don’t feel lonely with,” Shin said in frustration, hand dragging through his hair. “Everything was a blur for weeks, for months after, but meeting you that day- It was the only time I felt that I could be _okay_. I found you because I wanted to feel that again. I had to know if it were real and it _was_. _You were_.”

“Oh my God,” Sena whispered hoarsely, eyes wide and shaking.

“I’m allergic to flowers. I have more money than most politicians. I’m a CEO of my mother’s company. I don’t need money or a job, I don’t even need those flowers. I just needed you,” Shin barrelled on, word after word spilling out of him as if making up for every lost moment. As if every silent one-sided conversation was just waiting for the moment he could finally tell the truth and have Sena _see_ him again. The same way Shin could finally _see_ Sena every moment of every day for the past four weeks.

“Shin-san…” Sena covered his flaming red face with his hands, his wide grin not quite covered. “I… I don’t know what to say!” he burst out on a laugh, hands shaking and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes for an entirely different reason. “I just… I just made a silly little flower tent. How could that matter to you?”

“It mattered because you made a silly flower tent for my parents’ flowers," Shin said softly, eyes dark and fixed to Sena's half-hidden face. "So they could have beauty and peace even though they’re… they’re _dead_. Their flowers mattered to you,” he choked out, body slumped and shoulders shaking. “I looked lonely and it mattered to you. I don’t want to- ….”

He couldn’t finish the thought- the knowledge of the huge, empty house he went “home” to every day waiting just outside the van crowding in on him. The idea of entering without Sena, seeing the house and its lack of any Christmas cheer other than the echoes of his father’s last year. The scent of gluhwein with too much cinnamon missing along with his mother’s quiet laugh. He couldn’t. He couldn’t go inside on Christmas and not have Sena there to smile away the quiet. He didn’t want to be lonely or without Sena.

Callused, freezing, trembling hands fell over his and he looked up to see Sena smiling that tremulous, sheepish smile.

“You don’t have to be lonely ever again. I want to be with you, too.”

Shin blinked, something hot falling down his face, but he snagged Sena. The startled squeak was muffled against his collarbone, and he buried his face in the curve of Sena’s neck. Slowly, arms rose and wrapped around his waist. Hands pressed against his back, a pressure he barely felt through the layers of his coat and sweaters, but grounded him nonetheless.

The winter cold finally drove them inside long after their bodies protested the awkward, almost painful position they'd sat in, stretched over the empty space between their seats. The coffee was still warm- if slightly burnt tasting, but good enough with a lot of milk and sugar added- and they curled up on the couch. Sena had found a gif of a Christmas tree on his phone, and it glittered on the coffee table without any other lights on to wash it out. A thick fleece blanket was wrapped around their shoulders and over their laps. Under his breath, Sena hummed a Christmas song. Shin pressed his face into Sena’s hair and closed his eyes.

He’d gone to a flower shop hoping for at most, a new friend and a polite text on Christmas to remind him he wasn’t as alone as he’d felt. Maybe there would have been one awkward dinner of forced conversation and instant regret.

Instead, he’d walked out with a job he didn’t need…

…and ended up with a man he did for Christmas.  


End file.
